


The Dragon Becomes Me

by thel9stwea699



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Genyatta - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Slow Burn, Weredragon! Genji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8965348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thel9stwea699/pseuds/thel9stwea699
Summary: Genji has been outcasted by his dragon clan and has begun his travels around the world. While staying in the mountains of Nepal, he goes on a chance excursion during the night and meets Zenyatta, a monk of the Shambali.





	1. Hoard the Stars

Nepal's first weeks of Spring were as finicky and indecisive as a young child. The weather ticked from severe to mild in a seemingly erratic fashion. Still, Genji was glad for the seasonal transition and travelled further from his temporary residence, staying out as long as the recess between rain showers would allow. Some early mornings, before the rest of his small world woke, he would venture out to let the first rays of sunlight warm his scales.

As the dawn waxed into the full morning, the dragon shook the dew from his hide and crept back to his cove to shift into a more… presentable form -just on the off chance that some hiker came across his path. As rough skin replaced rougher scales, Genji shivered. Okay, it was colder in this form than he’d initially gauged; why did humans have to be so bare?

“Put some clothes on! Have some shame!” Even now, he could still hear his elder brother’s haughty voice in his head. With chattering teeth he donned his thick pants, shirt, and coif. These garments were soon accompanied by a pair of sturdy boots and a russack pulled around his shoulders. A cloth tied to his head concealed the thick web of scar tissue that weaved from his top lip down until it was lost under his emerald scarf. 

With inhuman agility, he picked his way through the brush that was starting to grow in and found the narrow path that wound down near the village. He kept his focus sharp, ready to retreat in the event that someone was coming up the trail. Thus far, Genji had managed to remain undetected by the humans and omnics living below, but it wasn’t guaranteed to stay that way forever. It wasn’t like the more populated cities where he could slip into the crowd unnoticed - everyone in small towns like this knew one another and would certainly notice a stranger. 

Still, Genji was almost content with this odd arrangement. It was quiet, peaceful, in Nepal. In this place, tucked away far from the masses, he could take a reprieve. The cold mountain air could almost soothe the burning in his chest and mind. From a distance, the young man could watch the lives of the villagers, see the ceremonies at the monastery, and even sometimes hear the happy songs they sang jubilantly on their holidays. This was a life he could lead for a little while longer, standing at the edge but never quite crossing the threshold, outcasted as he’d been for years.

From his shadowed perch, Genji watched the Shambali slowly wake and come to life. Children burst from their homes, met each other on the main road, and travelled in clusters to the monastery for their morning lessons. Laundry was strung on lines, left to dry as the sun climbed into the sky. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Genji knew he would miss the village whenever he finally moved on. He’d leave their lives silently, and they would be unaware of his absence. The thought made him sigh softly. But it didn’t matter - he didn’t belong here, didn’t belong anywhere. Exiled by his clansmen, and not truly of mankind-or even omnic-kind- he had no niche to fill.  
In the early afternoon, Genji retreated back into the forest to find something to sate his hunger until he could properly hunt at night. With the plant life renewed after the receding frost animals were coming out of their furrows to scavenge, and finding a small meal was a relatively easy task for him. With his catch in one hand, he returned to the privacy of his cove to eat.

When the moon, a small sliver on this night, had risen well into the sky Genji ventured out once more. The temperature had dropped once again in a matter of hours, and he could almost envy the villagers tucked safely away in their warm homes. No other soul besides himself seemed to be out to indulge the chill of the wind. This knowledge spurred something inside the outcasted warrior, and he felt curiosity tickling him. Remaining in his more inconspicuous form as a safety precaution, Genji set his sights on the monastery, glimmering white even without the aid of a fuller moon. It was as if the buildings themselves gave off their own ethereal glow.

Yellow tapestries rustled gently in the breeze, blowing slightly inward as if to invite the man inside. With careful steps, Genji approached those magical, towering walls. He had to take a breath to steel himself - this was the closest he’d ever gone to the monastery. Still, his desire to see the inside overpowered his anxiety. Feeling like an invader, he skulked past the massive pillars and statues until he was within the center building’s shelter, protected from the bite of windchill. 

The chamber he found himself in was almost cavernous, and his footsteps, though tread lightly, echoed. In the dark, Genji couldn’t quite see the ceiling. Somewhat wanderstruck, he wandered into a broad corridor, admiring the intricate carvings that morphed out of nearly every surface. Man, beast, omnic - stories of every walk of life were etched into pristine marble. As he entered a room where the ceiling was lower, he noticed there was more light streaming in than before. Peering up, he gasped quietly at a skylight that perfectly framed the crisp moon and stars. Painted glass ornamented the edges of the massive window, each pane a colorful compliment to the night sky. 

Taken by some whimsical compulsion, the traveller lay down, sprawling across the cold stone, and gazed skyward. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of peace - a peace that allowed him to simply slow down, view the world, admire what precious beauty could be found. True to his dragon nature, Genji had a profound desire to pluck the moon and stars and stash them away, save them in his treasure hoard forever. 

Startled by the sound of his own chuckle bouncing off the walls, Genji sat up abruptly, quickly scanning his surroundings. He sniffed the air, but didn’t detect anything amid the scent of new plant shoots. Just as he thought he was in the clear, a voice spoke, “What is it that you find so humorous, my guest?”

Genji nearly jolted out of his human skin at the sound of another’s voice. He scrambled to his feet and -on complete instinct- leapt for the nearest wall to scale it like the panicked lizard he truly was, only stopping when his head bumped the ceiling. “Fuck.” He nearly barked aloud.

Risking a look to the floor, he saw nine glowing lights first, then the softly gleaming faceplate of the omnic who had spoken. He flinched when said omnic released a chuckle of his own, and then teased, “A flighty one, are we?” Genji said nothing in response and reached for his shuriken, eyes narrowing defensively.

“I can assure you that you will be met with no harm. Please come down - I’d like to hear what you thought so funny.” The synthesized voice pleaded gently, head angled toward the corner where the man hid.

“It’s none of your business!” Genji spat back.

“Oh? A stranger creeps into my monastery and his antics are none of my business?” The monk didn’t sound angry, rather it was inquisitive as if he expected a genuine answer. Having no words for a sharp retort, the man continued to glare from his perch.

“What would it take for you to come down? A hot cup of tea, perhaps?”

At this, Genji snapped back incredulously, “You think you can bribe me with tea?!”

“I thought it was at least worth the try.” The monk’s voice carried an unassuming shrug within it.

This was too good; Genji just had to get a better look at this wise-ass. He crept down a few feet, trying to get a better gauge of the omnic.

“Oh? Do you want the tea after all?” His voice sounded almost hopeful. 

From his new position, Genji could more accurately assess the features of the Shambali member. A simple, ochre robe adorned the monk's slender, robotic frame. Though he was composed of well-crafted metal, he looked more fragile than some of the other omnics Genji had encountered - he didn't think the stranger was capable of giving him a fight.

Gathering himself, the outcast sprang from his perch and landed neatly in front of the omnic. “It would be wise of you to let me leave quietly, and speak to no one of this.” He told the other, a vague threat slipping past his lips.

“Hmmm.” Was the only response Genji received.

“I will take my leave now.” The traveller spoke firmly, turning his feet toward where he had entered. 

“You will not stay for tea after all?”

Was this omnic still on about that? “Hah.” Genji laughed shortly. “What is your name?” He inquired abruptly.

“I am Tekartha Zenyatta. It is a pleasure to meet you, though admittedly the circumstance is odd.” Zenyatta never strayed from his calm, polite inflection. “And who, may I ask, are you?”

“You may not ask. I am no one to you.” Genji replied coolly.

“It is nice to meet you nonetheless, No One.”

His mouth opened to respond, then closed again. Was this monk sassing him? He didn't know whether to be angry or amused. An outcasted dragon warrior being sassed by a monk of the Shambali - what a world to live in. 

“What kind of tea do you take?” Zenyatta intoned.

Yet again, Genji was baffled by his persistence. “Are you still trying to persuade me with a drink? I will not play your games, monk.”

“More for me, I suppose.” Zenyatta replied, unaffected. 

Genji nearly asked incredulously if the robot could even drink, but clamped down on the words as he realized Zenyatta was still trying to ring him in.

“Good night.” The man said curtly before darting past the entrance and letting the night swallow his shadow.

“Good night!” Zenyatta called after him.


	2. No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta seeks out Genji to offer him shelter, but ends up being the one who needs help

The following morning Genji stayed well away from the village and monastery, wary after the previous night’s incident. He supposed it was an indication that he should get moving again, and he began to mentally prepare himself for another trip. Where it would lead him, he wasn't sure.

He still felt lingering bewilderment from his encounter with Zenyatta - the monk had managed to rile him, but he hadn’t felt any genuine anger. It was a bit unnerving how the omnic remained calm at all times, undeterred, and how he had pulled Genji into a conversation even when he hadn’t wanted to speak at all. Remembering that gold and silver faceplate glimmering ever-so-slightly in the moonlight, he felt a jab of wonder. It had been weeks since the dragon had spoken to anyone, and the sample of socialization he’d received left his mind twisting down odd avenues of thought. A few evenings later the temperature plummeted again, Winter not quite ready to give up its harsh reign. Snow gusted through the mountain in a flurry, coating the fresh sprouts in a sheet of white. Genji did not venture from his hideout, and kept himself wrapped in thick layers, maintaining his human form as it would be easier to keep warm. Cold-blooded, giant lizards weren't exactly made to thrive in such conditions. 

Some nagging sense at the back of his mind prodded Genji into wakefulness just as the worst of the storm was starting to break. The wind howled furiously, pummeling snow into everything in its path. His desire to remain where he lay was eventually overpowered by some instinct that insisted there was something askew. Still laden with his cloths, he hobbled over to the mouth of his shelter and peered into the storm. Nothing.

He was about to turn back to bed when he thought he noticed a set of blue lights glowing through the white in the distance. Focusing harder, he found them again, and watched them as the slowly moved. After a few more moments, the lights careened down toward what Genji could only assume was the ground, and then dimmed out.

After wrestling his hesitation, the dragon surged toward where he’d seen the glow to investigate. As he approached, he spotted a crumpled, metal figure amidst the snow, being rapidly coated in white. Upon closer inspection, he discerned the same yellow robe from a few nights previous. What the hell did he think he was doing out in this weather?!

A more sickening thought pierced Genji’s mind - was he dead? Or had he simply shut down to preserve his censors? He crouched next to the omnic - he couldn’t hear any of his internal systems at work above the roar of the wind. Genji looked in the direction the monk must have come from, and then forlornly back at his own shelter. With a resigned sigh, a servant to his own pity, he took the bitingly cold form into his arms and carried him in to shelter.

Once safely inside, Genji piled clothes, animal hides, and anything else vaguely resembling a blanket onto what he hoped was just an unconscious monk. No response or movement came from the omnic. It was possible his internal censors had already froze completely over - no telling how long he'd been out in the blizzard. His concern waxing, Genji began pulling in pieces of brush from near the opening of his shelter and building a pile with them. That task finished, he checked to make sure the monk was still out before he changed form. The moment his body adjusted, he turned his focus to his stomach and chest. A warmth began to grow within him, flowing from his stomach to his chest. The sensation built, growing hotter, until it peaked and Genji opened his maw to set his kindle ablaze.

Crouched to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling of the rock formation, the dragon nudged his charge and the accompanying bundle of cloth closer to the fire, willing the omnic’s systems to thaw. After several long, anxious minutes, a soft whirr was heard as Zenyatta’s body began to come back online. Genji shifted back to his human form and watched the other closely, waiting for him to finally rouse.  
It was nearly half an hour later until Genji heard a rustle from beneath the towering pile of covers that he had stacked atop the omnic. The rustling grew quicker, more frantic, and Genji’s eyebrows knitted with concern. “Hello? I think I am buried!” A muffled voice called from under the blankets. The dragon laughed, amused, and plunged his arms into the pile to pull back the covers, revealing Zenyatta’s shining head.

Although he didn’t have a face to make the proper expression with, the omnic had an air of confusion for a moment, then seemed to quickly assess the situation. “Oh. It is nice to see you again, No One.” He greeted the man as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

Genji wasted no time in assailing the monk. “What the hell did you think you were doing out there in the storm?! Looking for death?!”

Zenyatta remained unfrazzled by his harsh tone. “Actually, I was looking for you. I did not know where you were taking residence, and I wanted to ascertain that you were safe in this weather. That was my plan.”

“Your plan was to trudge out here and freeze to death, looking for a stranger?” Genji was incredulous.

“I did not say it was a good plan.”

The man shook his head in disbelief. “When the storm passes, I will help you find your way back to your village. Until then…” He trailed off.

“Stay here and do not cause you any more trouble?” Zenyatta suggested.

“Yes, exactly.”

There was a lapse of silence, but it didn’t last long - not with Zenyatta around. “Pardon my curiosity, but what is the reason for your stay here? You must know that the monastery welcomes all; there is no need to camp out in this harsh wilderness, No One.”

“My name is not No One.” Genji cut in.

“Then what shall you have me call you?” Was the monk’s reply.

“I am Genji.” The traveller finally relented to tell him. “Do not worry about my residence; I will not remain here much longer.”

“Oh?” Zenyatta intoned, cocking his head inquisitively. 

“I will be resuming my travels in a few days, when the weather is completely clear.” He clarified.

“To where, might I ask?”

Genji could not answer him; he did not know where his feet would take him next. All he knew was that he had to keep going, even if he lacked a destination. “I wish I knew.” He responded with a humorless laugh.

At this, the omnic questioned gently, “Then why not stay? You are welcome here, as all travellers are. I sense disquiet within you, and I would like to be of help, if you would allow it.”

“You cannot help me.” The dragon answered almost immediately. “I have no interest in becoming your pity-project.”

Zenyatta considered this response, then spoke carefully, “I do not think you a pity. Rather, I think you a man in search of purpose. Furthermore, I believe purpose can become within your reach if you let others aid you. If you thought yourself worthy of that help.”

His words made the man defensive; they hit too close to home. It unnerved him the way Zenyatta could lay him bare, even though they were strangers. “You know nothing of me.” Genji retorted spitefully.

“I know your name is Genji. And I know that the stars make you laugh. I know you travel, but have no destination. I would not call that ‘nothing.’ “

“You also know how to get on my nerves, apparently.” Genji said dryly.

“That’s four things, then. Four is bigger than nothing.” Zenyatta replied, his banter ceaseless.

Genji rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation. “Can’t you go to sleep, or something?”

“As you wish.” The monk pulled the blankets back around himself, then curled onto the ground. “Goodnight, Genji. Wake me when the storm passes, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of my chapters are probably gonna be pretty short because I don't know how to transition stuff smoothly ahaha


	3. The Dragon of Shambali

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji prevents a group of anti-omnic terrorists from getting to their destination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No proof-reading, we die like men.
> 
> Also, thank you all so much for the kind comments and critiques! I really appreciate them! <3

True to his word, Genji had escorted the monk back to the village after the storm had come and gone, declining Zenyatta’s offers hot tea. He had to admire the omnic’s persistence, though. However, the traveller found that he had a new problem - Zenyatta had managed to remember the path they had taken from the shelter down to the village, and now Genji could hear his mechanical whirr and soft, pleasant hum coming up the path. Crap. Quickly, Genji shifted from scales to skin.  
“You are a pest!” Genji threw his hands up in exasperation as the monk came into view.

“And you are naked.” Zenyatta replied.

Looking down at himself, he realized far too late the state of himself. FUCK. “G-Give me a minute!” He shouted over his shoulder as he darted back into the foliage.

“I will wait.” Zenyatta answered patiently.

Thoroughly embarrassed, even more so as he stared down at the scars and mottled skin that covered him, the dragon threw some clothes onto his body in haste, popping out of his cove to find Zenyatta waiting for him, hands folded neatly over his narrow mid-section. “What do you want?” He asked sharply.

“I came to thank you for your help, and wish you a good morning.”

“You already thanked me,” Genji replied, annoyed. “Anyway, I’ll be gone by tomorrow, so don’t pass out again looking for me.”

Zenyatta found humor in that comment and chuckled softly, a sound that Genji didn’t want to admit was pleasant on the ears. “If you insist on leaving, then I would still like to be of assistance; are there any supplies you will need for your travels?”

“Planning on slipping a tracking device among them so you can hunt me down again?” The dragon said with dry humor.

“No, but that is an idea. I will keep that in mind, friend.”

Genji couldn’t help but feel something twinge slightly in his stomach upon hearing that last word. Friend. There was something about the omnic that left him feeling lost, empty and full at the same time. He imagined the monk would be a fun, shiny companion to toy with, banter and tease -but that was a foolish thought. Genji struggled with the two sides of himself, one wanting to accept and kindle a friendship, the other rejecting Zenyatta, fearing him, fearing what he would do if he knew the truth behind the beast playing human.

His whirling thoughts were halted, and he was brought back to reality as Zenyatta spoke gently, “You seem troubled.”

“You should go home.” His voice held a plea in it, a plea for the other to leave him be, let him continue in his stubborn way because the fall was easier than the ascent Zenyatta seemed to be pulling him toward. Home. The word tasted bitter in his mouth.

If the monk had a face, a shadow of sadness would have passed over it. “I wish you well, Genji.” He said with a kindness that the dragon had not known for a long time. With a nod, Zenyatta left the other standing in a torrent of emotion.  
____________________________________________________________________________

By sundown, Genji had all of his belongings packed and ready to go and sat waiting for the cover of night to begin his trek. When the sky had colored a crisp black, he shouldered his gear and began his hike down the mountainside. The cool, still air cradled him, and he longed to shift to his reptilian form, but he would ignore that temptation until he was well away from populated dwellings.

An hour into his hike, Genji stopped at the whiff of human scent. After a moment, he discerned that it was actually a group of humans - six, maybe seven of them. They didn't smell at all like the villagers. The scent he picked up was more acrid - they must've been from the city. Hiding his packs in some shrubbery, he skulked closer to the source of the smell, venturing until he could hear voices and see their flashlights through the trees.

As he listened, a sharper, more metallic smell had him cocking his head. Gunpowder? His eyes narrowed, and Genji risked drawing even nearer. Soundlessly, he scaled up to a higher vantage point until finer details morphed into view. From his perch, he could make out the seven figures, each laden with some kind of weapon or another. Some had assault rifles strapped to their backs, others carried automatic pistols and had what appeared to be homemade explosives clipped to their belts. Genji was bewildered for only a moment - it quickly dawned on him what the group’s destination was, and what they intended to do once they reached it. His realization caused rage to course through him. 

In a blur of motion, Genji unsheathed his katana and leapt from his tree, snatching the nearest person before they knew what was happening, and pressed his blade against their throat. “What do you intend to do to the Shambali?!” He demanded in an angry roar, though he already knew the answer. Several members reached for their weapons, but Genji could sense their bewilderment and fear, something that made them slow and vulnerable. If they were trained, it was poorly so. 

A confident soul, presumably the leader of the assembly, aimed his pistol at Genji's head. Steady hand, no tremble in the wrist. Definitely the leader. “We came to take care of some business, and if you was smart you’d stay out of our damn way. Now I suggest you back the fuck off." 

“Try me.” Genji growled, voice as steely as the cold gaze he fixed the leader with. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, hot pain began pulsing through his arm. Gun smoke, and the delayed sound of the bullet cracking the air. As he crumpled, he looked up to see a trembling girl, gun clenched between two hands, staring down at him with wide-eyed terror. She’d been the one to fire the shot.

There came a pause, no movement aside from the heaving of Genji's chest and the still trembling hands of the shooter - even her own teammates seemed shocked by her quick action. But the ronin had been trained better; years of harsh upbringing hadn't gone to waste just yet. Genji switched his sword into his other hand and surged forward, taking a vicious swipe at the first man in his path. The blow connected, and he felt the sickening sensation of his blade cutting into bone. The scene erupted into motion and deafening sound - shots rang into the night, panicked screams echoing through the trees.

Genji did his best to dodge and deflect, but their numbers soon overwhelmed him. It was six on one, and with an injured arm there was no possible way to keep up. His defensive maneuvers ended with a shot in his leg, sending him crashing back to the ground. His vision blurred as the pain from both injuries screamed through him. What little options he had narrowed even further; he couldn’t continue in this form.

Men and women shouted and pitched backward as an eerie, green light erupted from Genji’s body. Soft flesh melted into nothingness as hard scales took its place. Fear froze the attackers in place as an enormous, serpentine form pieced itself into existence. With harsh, gold eyes now glaring down at them, the humans scrambled chaotically. From the corner of his vision, Genji saw someone take their assault rifle to arms. A bone-chilling roar surged from his maw as he barreled at the armed individual, snatching them in his teeth and throwing their body at the members who were desperately scurrying from him. A dull thud reached Genji as the body collided with one of the others, knocking them to the ground. 

The dragon roared again, brandishing his gleaming teeth like dozens of white daggers. Earsplitting screams bounced off the mountain rock as the group fled, leaving Genji to stand over the two he’d killed. Blood still poured from the wounds he had maintained even in this form. With an iron resolve, the dragon forced himself to retreat back up the mountain.

Blood stained the surface of the latest snowfall, like spilled wine on a white sheet. The distance between the dragon and the invaders increased by the minute, but that left him alone with his reeling mind, sharp pain, and the fading vibrations of adrenaline in his veins. Where could he turn to, now? He couldn’t fight off the pain well enough in his human form to keep from passing out in the cold, and he couldn’t exactly tend to wounds like these himself. Exhausted and distraught, heart still quivering with anxiety, Genji snaked his way through the trees back the way he’d come. With every wind and twist, it became more and more difficult for him to keep going. To where was he even going? He was just blindly chasing some vague solution to the problem. 

Eventually, his body gave, and he could force himself no further. Dried blood and fresh blood alike caked his hindquarter and shoulder. Genji’s enormous, serpentine body collapsed under its own weight with an echoed thump. His vision swam, a drowning man in a sea of fear and confusion, and then went black.


	4. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji's injuries are tended to and Zenyatta thinks about things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably over the next few chapters I'll be updating my tags so keep an eye out for that!

The first thing Genji became aware of was a faint warmth pressed into his flank and shoulder. His pain had ebbed from screaming into a barely a dull throb. A yellow light flooded into his irises as he opened his eyes, confusing and blinding him for a moment. The dragon blinked several times and finally his surroundings were crisp in his view. He lifted his head and turned to see where the warmth and weight on his side were coming from. Genji, as big a beast as he was, was startled to see a familiar face, nine glowing dots shining eagerly at him. 

Why was he here? How did he find him? Did he even know the true identity of the enormous creature he was currently using as a pillow? Genji reeled in bewilderment, stirring and beginning to flinch away from the omnic. 

“I will not harm you; you are safe. There is no need to be afraid.” That soothing voice flowed into Genji’s mind, and he ceased looking for a quick escape. “I was beginning to worry you would never wake.” Zenyatta conceded.

The dragon stared at him, then noticed the floating, glowing orb that hung near his shoulder. Its light pulsed, and Genji could feel the pain from his injuries slowly abate into non-existence. Zenyatta had saved him, healed him - had tried to share his own body heat to keep hypothermia at bay. That realization left Genji overwhelmed, unable to process such a display of kindness. With his fangs and claws like medieval weaponry, Genji could easily tear the monk to pieces, crunch him in his jaws, but yet… Zenyatta remained unafraid. 

Slowly, with the same gentleness as he did everything else, the omnic raised a palm, inviting the dragon to investigate his fingers. Genji didn’t lean forward, but didn’t pull back when Zenyatta rested his hand on the dragon’s snout. “You are safe.” He repeated once more.

Opening his mouth, Genji tried to force out a response, but his reptilian vocal chords were not willing to accommodate - instead a baritone “mrumph” escaped him. Nonetheless, Zenyatta interpreted it well enough and patted the beast’s nose gingerly. 

Okay. That was enough; next thing he’d be getting called “Good Boy” and offered belly scratches. Genji got to his feet, a wave of motion that started at his front end and coalesced at his back legs (which were separated from the front ones by a good twelve feet of midsection). 

“Oh? Ready to leave for home so soon?” Zenyatta inquired, getting to his own feet. Home. There was that word again. The dragon glanced at the sky, which by now had traded the pitch of midnight for the gray of dawn, wondering where home was. When his eyes dropped back to the omnic, he was again greeted with a fresh wave of emotion. How could someone be so kind, so at peace with himself? Genji desperately wanted to believe Zenyatta was a fool, naive of how cruel the world really was. But looking down at his fragile body, seeing the hopeful glimmer of his faceplate and the way he steadily held the dragon’s gaze, Genji knew that wasn’t true. In fact, Zenyatta was… beautiful.

Beautiful. It rang through his brain like a loud, disruptive bell. The peace that permeated the air around the monk, the morning light caressing the silver and gold of his face, the slenderness of his build, the calm courage that kept him upright on two feet - beautiful. Home. Beautiful. Home. Beautiful. Two words that nagged at him, making his chest tighten.

What would Zenyatta think of the truth, or did he already know it? The dragon struggled with his throat and rasped out “H...ome” as best he could, giving the monk a nudge in the direction of the trail that led back to the village before sadly turning the other way to recede into the forest.

“Peace be upon you!” Zenyatta called after the dragon, a drop of sadness coloring him as well. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Zenyatta was silent as news that two bodies, laden with weapons and explosives, had been discovered just off the path leading to a monastery. Blood, splintered shrubbery, and other damage indicated that there had been an intense struggle. The inhabitants were plagued by confusion and fear - fear of what would have happened if the two had made it to their destination, but also fear of whatever had brought their trek to an end. 

He comforted the villagers, took the responsibility of putting them at ease, but did not speak of the strange man and beast he had met. Zenyatta’s secret weighed heavily on him, guilt curling around his shoulders, but he knew the truth would only instill more fear. His faith in the Iris kept the dread from him. That magnificent creature he’d discovered, made fragile by the wounds inflicted on it, had protected them; this he was certain of. The dragon would not harm the people of Nepal.

Mondatta requested Zenyatta at the monastery, and he went to answer the call without delay. As he entered one of the side chambers, he immediately sensed his brother’s concern, though Mondatta stood firmly. After bowing politely, Zenyatta alighted to a seat across from the other omnic. “I see you are troubled, brother. What can I do for you?”

The response did not come immediately, but eventually Mondatta ventured, “As I’m sure you are aware, the bodies that were discovered had weapons on them. I don’t like to imagine what intentions they might have had, but it is something to consider.”

“Yes, I agree.” Zenyatta replied. “I would hope that their intentions had not been so cruel, but we must acknowledge that lives could have been put in danger.” His voice grew bolder as he spoke. “As we are now, there is little that we would have been able to do to stop them.”

His fellow monk quickly traced the point Zenyatta was trying to make and interjected. “I am aware of your concerns about our lack of defenses, but my opinion has not swayed. We must not tread the path of violence, no matter the risk.”

“Even if the risk is innocent life?” Zenyatta did not raise his voice, but asked the question gravely,

“There is even greater risk for us if we let ourselves become the hurtful beings they want to portray us as.” Mondatta countered swiftly, then continued, “I have thought much over this matter already, and I would like to ask that you help design and teach the others of an escape route in case evacuation becomes necessary.”

Zenyatta wanted to insist that some line of defense be put in place, but he already knew Mondatta would not budge. He allowed himself a lull of spiteful silence before answering, “Of course, I will consider the matter carefully.” Mondatta then dismissed him, and they parted to resume their respective duties.

 

At dusk, the monk slipped from his chambers and took to the route he’d taken twice before. He investigated the familiar cove, but found that all signs of residency had been erased. Genji had already gone, taking all evidence, save for Zenyatta’s memories, with him. A twinge of sadness squeezed at the omnic’s breast, making the space where his heart would lay ache. He had hoped to make something significant out of Genji’s appearance, take it as a sign of some sort - but perhaps this was just another of life’s many oddities, a passing bud not meant for fruition. As he turned away, feeling heavier than he would have liked, he hoped for the man’s safety, and willed him to find peace.

On his way back, Zenyatta made a detour at the monastery, drawn to the room where he’d first met the traveller. The sky wasn’t as clear as it had been that night, but he could still make out the fattening moon and some of her twilight companions. He remembered hearing that quiet chuckle echoing off of the walls, seeing that figure sprawled contentedly on the floor, looking less like an intruder and more like a center-piece. Noting the way the moonlight filtered perfectly through one of the yellow glass panes, Zenyatta’s thoughts then turned to the smoldering gaze of the dragon. A strange man, and a stranger creature. Truly, Genji was a wonder.


	5. Dragons Among Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree gets between two attackers and their victim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm clarifying this here in case some of you were confused: this AU takes place after the war, but before Overwatch was disbanded timeline-wise.

The Himalayas were like stone guardians towering over the valley, a constant gray and purple backdrop - though only seen as a solid haze during the monsoon months. Even now, in early spring, the humidity was slowly rising amid the fickle weather. Genji slipped among the meandering crowds and ambled down a major street, pausing here and there to peek into shops and stalls. A dull ache pulsed in his heart as he recalled walking through the markets of Hanamura with his brother, smelling the spice of surume, and begging their father to buy them mochi from the sweets shop. Vividly, he imagined the pleasant chew of the sticky dessert between his teeth - anko had been his favorite flavor, while his elder brother had preferred matcha. The thought of Hanzo, despite how fleeting, brought with it a wisp of anger, and he reflexively terminated that train of thought, lest it re-awoke more emotions he was not prepared to confront.

Genji continued his aimless stroll, lending even more concentration to his surroundings in order to keep his mind in check. Minutes later, however, his pounding thoughts had Genji at their mercy once more as he caught sight of a beautiful, yellow tapestry draped in front of one of the stalls; it reminded him of the hangings at the monastery. 

“See something you like?” The shop owner asked, stirring Genji from his reverie. It was then that he realized he’d been staring.

“Ah. No, thank you.” He stammered quickly before turning heel and returning to the flow of the crowd, like a lone fish returning to its school.

_______________________________

“Well, I definitely ain't in Kansas anymore.” The man in the red serape said to himself as he leaned over a balcony railing and looked at the stunning architecture of both Indian and Chinese influence. Stacked pagodas and impressive towers cut into the sky, ornating the clouds with intricate arches and polished steeples. “Sure don't seem like the type of place to expect trouble from.”

A few weeks before, Overwatch had received numerous reports of anti-omnic demonstrations in the Nepalese area and had accordingly sent an agent to investigate the matter. Why the hell the higher-ups picked a guy like himself for this assignment was beyond McCree’s reasoning - he stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe they'd just noticed him getting restless around the base and thought a vacation would do the cowboy some good. He couldn't exactly complain, this was definitively one of his better missions - the least messy, anyway. 

Jesse’s mind wandered to his friends back at the base, and he recalled the tension that had been stewing between Reyes and Morrison for months. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his phone, deciding to check up on his old man.

[ hey pops ] 

Gabe’s reply came surprisingly quick. [ Call me pops one more time and I'll fly out there just to bust your ass. ]

McCree had a good chuckle at that before typing out cheekily, [ aww shucks you’d go through all that trouble just to see lil ol me? ]

[ What do you want, brat? Need me to come bail you out? ]

[ nope. just wanted to see how my old man was doin’ without me. how’s things with morrison? ]

[ Still can't get through that thick skull of his. Haven't bothered trying in a while. ] As usual, Reyes kept his reply brief and vague.

Jesse's phone was nearly thrown from his fingers as angry shouts and metallic clangs rang out from under the bridge he was standing on. The sounds of a vicious fight reached his ears from beneath his feet, and he switched his phone for his gun. Grabbing the railing with his other hand, McCree vaulted over it and landed on the concrete below with an “umphh” as the contact sent a shockwave up his legs. Still, he recovered in record time to brandish his weapon at the fighting men.

“Anyone mind tellin’ me what the hell’s goin’ on here? I don't like being interrupted. “ 

Two of the men whirled to face him, but the third did not waste his window of opportunity. In a blur of motion, the man with a cloth covering his mouth cracked the hilt of his sword into one of the attacker's skulls and rushed at the second. McCree fired a warning shot and the masked man fell back, eyeing him with a mix of anger and wariness. 

“These two followed me from the market and attacked me,” the stranger said, using his katana to gesture to the other men, one knocked unconscious and the other still standing.

“Really, now?” McCree’s eyes narrowed as he pointed his revolver at the assailant clad in black.

“You should mind your own damn business!” The attacker snarled, keeping his own pistol trained on the cowboy. “I’ve got somethin’ to settle with this guy.”

“Mind my business?” Jesse asked with a humourless laugh before his tone turned darker. “Pal, this kinda thing IS my business, and I think you should be the one to step off.” There was a harsh glint in his eye as he spoke.

The cowboy watched as, in a desperate maneuver, the attacker made a lunge at his original target, trying to catch him by the collar. His Peacemaker was faster, though, and the man screamed as a bullet ripped through his outstretched hand.

“You come here and tell me your story,” Jesse nodded at the man with the katana, “and you stay where I can see ya.” He turned his head toward the one clutching his hand, kneeled on the ground next to his unconscious partner.

“I met them before,” he gestured to the injured men, “on the trail to Shambali. They were planning an attack on the monastery, but I fought them and their group off.” Genji told the cowboy earnestly, but remained wary of him. “They saw me in the market here and followed me.”

Well, it looked like this mission wasn't a waste, after all - McCree had finally managed to get some information. “I heard about some anti-omnic groups in the area and came to check it out. Seems like I won't be goin’ home empty-handed.” He walked past Genji, paying his still unsheathed katana no heed, and whipped out his phone again. There was a dial tone and then a deep voice answering. “Hey pops, I got some troublemakers here that y’all might be interested in - where you want me to drop ‘em off?”

Genji listened to the brief phone conversation, watching the oddly dressed man closely, always keeping track of the handgun he carried. When he'd finished his call, McCree asked, “You wanna help me book these guys, or do you got some place to be?”

“No more questions for me? You just accept the story I gave?” The dragon inquired distrustfully.

“Ain't got no reason not to… ‘less you're about to give me one.” He quirked a bushy eyebrow slyly.

Genji did not move, keeping his muscles taut and ready for action. “Who are you?”

“Name’s McCree, Overwatch affiliate, of a sorts. How about you?”

“Genji.” He responded impersonally. 

'Of a sorts' sounded incredibly suspicious, but then again any association with them was cause for concern. Overwatch was well known internationally, but only a handful of its members were recognizable on sight. The organization kept information about many of its agents to a minimum in order to ensure their security. Genji maintained his mistrust of McCree. It was safer that way - who knows how the cowboy would react if he uncovered the truth about the traveller. His old clan, the Shimada clan, had been at the center of criminal activity in Japan for many decades; now Overwatch was working hard to dismantle what was left of the empire ruled by dragons. 

Most professional organizations foolishly took little heed of the myths and legends surrounding the Shimada family, believing the word “dragon” to merely be a metaphor or symbol, but the people of Hanamura knew better than to disregard the lore. Dragons walked on two legs among men, wielding strength skeptics couldn't fathom. Whether or not they believed, the truth was that the world's legends had moved forward into the new age along with everything else.

“I will walk with you, cowboy - I have some more information for you.” He broke the silence, coming abreast of McCree.

“That so? Let's get these guys where the boss wants ‘em, then you and me can have a chat.” Jesse said before he drew a handkerchief from his back pocket and tossed it to the bleeding man. “Clean yourself up and let's walk. Genji, can you manage the other guy?”

“Hah. Of course, what do you take me for?” Came the dragon's response as he easily hefted the slumped figure into his arms.


	6. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree agrees to go with Genji to the Shambali monastery to investigate the threats on the monks.

After McCree had delivered the two captives to a partner organization and answered some questions for the agents on duty, he strolled out of the building and asked, “You know any good places to get some coffee ‘round here?”

Genji didn't answer him and instead plunged into what had been plaguing him since he'd left Shambali. “There were more of them - seven at least. They were planning to attack the Shambali monastery, and they may still plan on it.”

McCree held up a hand to silence him. “Hold up, hold up. Let's find some place to have a seat, and then we can discuss this. ‘Sides, I got some questions for you, remember?”

Without hiding his impatience, Genji allowed the cowboy to find a small cafe tucked on a street corner. When they were seated and McCree had ordered his damn coffee, the dragon picked up where he'd left off. “I fear that the monks and villagers may be in danger. It may be in everyone's best interest if Overwatch turned its attention to that area.”

“Why the concern? It's obvious you ain't from around here. What business you got with ‘em?” Jesse inquired, keeping his tone even and casual.

The question caught Genji off guard, and he visibly faltered. His response came out slow and measured, “There are some who I wish to protect.”

Another round of tactfully executed question were tossed at the dragon. “Then what are you doing in Kashmandu? Takin’ a vacation? You said so yourself - you fought off those guys once before. Six or seven of ‘em if I recall.” McCree leaned forward in his seat. “You take on six, seven, men all by your lonesome, but then leave and come askin’ someone else to take your job?”

Genji shifted uncomfortably in his chair, mentally preparing an escape. He remained silent for several long moments before deflecting, “You won't help them, then?”

“Now hold on. I never said nothin’ of the sort! But if I'm to be gettin’ involved,” he set down his cup, “you're coming with me. I'll go to Shambali, but you're my escort.”

The dragon eyed him in half disbelief, half skepticism. Going back to the village would mean confronting many fears, many doubts but… the kindness he remembered was worth the risks. “You've got a deal, cowboy. Just try to keep up.”

At that, McCree chuckled. “Well, ain't you a cheeky bastard!”  
\---------------------------------------------------  
The same evening, Overwatch was informed of agent McCree’s investigation of Shambali - though he chose to omit the fact that he wasn't travelling alone; he didn't want Morrison to chew him out. In the morning, funds were transferred to a private account to cover the costs of the supplies needed for the trek up the mountain side. At ten in the morning, Jesse left his hotel and took a bus to the location he'd told Genji to meet him at. The ronin in question was rather casually seated on a bench, dressed inconspicuously in a simple hoodie and jeans, his ever-present mask still guarding his mouth and chin from sight. McCree felt compelled to ask him about it, but thought better of it. Not like it was any of his business.

They didn't talk much as they ambled a few streets over to the train station. With their fee paid, the two boarded and settled into their seats. The train would take them to a settlement at the base of the mountain; from there they would be left to a weary hike up to Shambali.

It still unnerved Genji how casually yet analytically McCree went about everything. The cowboy made himself comfortable on their shared bench, idly flipping through some magazine he'd plucked from the pocket on the side of the seat. The text was all written in Hindi, so he really was just looking at the pictures. Genji watched his tan, worn fingers thumb through the pages for a few moments, then turned his attention to the window when the vehicle slowly came to life and began to crawl forward, picking up speed as it went.

As they drew closer to their first destination, Genji felt his anxiety begin to climb. He was really going back - he'd have face Zenyatta again, and he didn't know if that thought brought him joy or fear. How would he and the Shambali react? An Overwatch agent and a rogue were coming to shake up their quiet, peaceful lives. Once again, the dragon eyed McCree mistrustfully. ‘You will not harm my people.’ He thought in a growl. Genji flinched. ‘My people.’ What right did he have to call them that?

An instant later, Jesse interrupted his brooding. “Do your pals in Shambali know that you're comin’ back with help?”

“What?” Genji sputtered, caught off guard. His anxiety stirred even further, threatening to make his veins vibrate. “N-No. But I do know someone!” He spoke in a rush. “I can find him and explain why I brought you.”

“Hmph.” McCree snorted. “The mystery keeps gettin’ thicker with you.”

Hoping to change the topic, the ronin asked a question that had been plaguing him since they boarded. “Why did you agree to come with me?”

At that, the cowboy laughed. “If a guy like you wanted to kill me, you’d’ve already done it. Taking me all the way up a mountain just for an assassination is just too extra.” 

Genji glanced at McCree’s cowboy hat, spurred boots, and ‘BAMF’ belt buckle, wondering what his definition of “extra” was. There was a long pause before the dragon spoke again in a hushed tone, “There were seven of them. Two of them are dead. I don't know what became of the bodies.”

Jesse raised his eyebrow, leaning forward seriously. “You kill ‘em?”

“It was self defense.” He responded immediately.

The cowboy stared at his companion for a moment before giving a nod. “We'll find out soon enough.”

An hour later, the train rolled into the station and the doors yawned open to allow its passengers to get off. Only a handful of people departed at this stop, Genji and McCree included in them. Shouldering their luggage, the two man exited the station in silence.

A quaint but charming abode was set before them; cozy houses and other small clusters of buildings dotted a relatively small plot of land. A few tiny shops were set up near the station, eagerly awaiting customers. “Think we could get somethin’ to eat around here?” Jesse asked, craving a good meal and a hot coffee to stave off the chill that blew down from the mountains.


	7. Fear and Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and McCree begin their trek up the mountain and Genji has some thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter isn't terribly eventful and is extremely short - its mostly filler with some character building

“There are rest stops scattered all along the trail; at least five that I remember. We can take refuge in one of them tonight, and we should reach the monastery by late tomorrow morning.” Genji explained as he and McCree sat at the mountain’s base, double-checking their hiking gear. Each was laden with several bottles of water, an emergency blanket, rope, extra clothes, and rations all packed tightly into two bulging backpacks. In addition to these, McCree carried a first-aid kit while Genji shouldered a simple tent to be pitched in the event the weather turned sour, and they were unable to make it to one of the rest stops.

The dragon zipped a windbreaker over his hoodie, and McCree likewise layered up some more sensible clothing. Their trek up the path began in silence, but after fifteen minutes Jesse tried to wrangle some idle conversation out of his companion. “So where you from, Genji?”

“Japan.” He responded, evading further coordinates. “But I have not been back for some years.”

McCree nodded. “You miss it much?”

Genji frowned beneath his mask. “No.” His tone was curt, an obvious signal that he did not wish to give any further details.

Stepping around some overgrown shrubbery, the cowboy spoke empathetically, “Yeah I don't really miss the dump I got pulled out of, neither. Ain't nothin’ there but a bunch of deadbeats and thieves. Now that I think about it, the gig I got now ain't half bad.”

His response did not come quickly, but Genji did eventually ask, “You said you were an 'affiliate' of Overwatch; what do you do?”

McCree turned to look at him with a sly expression, “If I tell you what my business is, you gotta tell me yours.”

“You're a weasel.”

At that, Jesse laughed but didn't deny it. “So far I ain't got involved in nothin’ too dirty at Overwatch- just some investigation work. A little spying here and there. I'm one of the rookies so they don't let me play in the big leagues yet.” He came astride of the other and nudged him. “Your turn.”

“I just travel.” It wasn't a lie - that was about all the dragon's life had consisted of for the past three years.

“Travel and beat up terrorists, apparently.” McCree interjected.

“Only sometimes.” Genji chuckled a bit, but once again he was weary of the direction the conversation was taking.

A few moments later the cowboy asked, “Where'd you learn to fight? Not many people I know can move like you did back when we were fighting those two goons.”

Silence, and then a steady breath. “My father insisted on teaching me to fight. He wanted me to be able to defend myself, and to defend my home.”

“In this kinda world, that's probably a wise idea. You don't always know who you can trust.”

That last sentence rang sorely in the ronin’s chest, opening up an old wound and letting the anger well up into his throat. “Yeah.”

At one the pair shambled inside one of the rest stops to eat a quick lunch. The tiny hut was equipped with a sturdy fireplace, a water pump out front, and an outhouse behind it. McCree pumped some water into a metal pot to boil while Genji threw some logs and tinder, which had been thoughtfully stowed in a corner by some stranger, into the fireplace and set to lighting them with a match.

With the fire stoked,Jesse hung his pot just above it and waited for the water to bubble. Meanwhile, he huddled close and warmed his chilled hands. “The beef stew sound alright to you?” He inquired, mentally going over the list of MRE packs they had.

“Yeah.” The dragon answered, taking a seat adjacent to McCree but with a respectful distance between them.

The cowboy found the appropriate sealed packets and set them aside until the water was ready. He then reached back into his bag to retrieve a small package of jerky. Taking a strip, he stuck it between his teeth and then offered the bag to his companion.

“No, thank you.” Genji politely declined, turning his attention to the crackling fire.

It became clear to Jesse why Genji had declined as his eyes traveled to the bolt of cloth tied around his mouth and chin. “How do you eat with that?” He asked, gesturing to the mask.

“I don't.” A measured response greeted him. The dragon continued to not make eye contact.

“Mmm.” McCree grunted, idly poking a twig deeper into the burning coals.

Not long afterward the stew appeared to be adequately warmed, and Jesse carefully drained the pot and extracted the sealed packets. He handed one to Genji and proceeded to root around for his plastic spoon. Genji accepted his meal and tried not to draw too much attention to himself as he turned away to face the opposite wall. McCree took a moment to stare at the hunched shoulder blades of his companion before he decided to just let the man be. Peeling back the cover of his meal, he tasted the stew before reaching for his condiment pack to add a dash of hot sauce.  
\---------------------------------------------------  
The travelling pair made it to the next stop just before nightfall, grateful that no incident had impeded their arrival. Genji was exhausted, but his true nature kept sleep from reaching him; he sat in the far corner, watching the rise and fall of McCree’s chest across the room, his hat and hand over his stomach. Someone else might have mistaken Jesse for vulnerable in that moment, but the dragon knew better. The way his left hand lay barely an inch from his holster told Genji that the cowboy had long since learned to be ready for an attack, no matter the time. 

Tomorrow would bring them to the Shambali - that thought put Genji at more unease than the tense form of his sleeping companion. As he brooded on the matted, his restlessness waxened until he could feel it goading his legs. “McCree.” The mentioned man sat up immediately, eyes darting around in assessment. “I'm going out - I will be back soon.”

Confusion spread across Jesse's face, but he nodded curtly. “Don't get killed.” He said dryly, sinking back down to the floor. 

“I will do my best.” Genji replied with the same flavorless humor, slipping past the heavy wood door into the chill night.

Above him, the stars shined vibrantly, unobscured. His mind wandered back to that night in the monastery, recalling how tantallizing the sky had looked frosted in those glass panes. As he walked, eyes still trained on the sky, the dragon's skin began to itch with a desire to climb into the heavens. No. Not now - not with McCree so nearby. He eyed the moon almost balefully, noting how it had begun its transition into a new phase.

Genji felt that the moon was not the only oncoming change; he could feel the presence of something unknown in his future, though he had no words to describe it. It made him shiver, though that reaction could be blamed on the cold. Was this what he had been so aimlessly chasing these past few years- this unnamed change outlined on his horizon, but always out of reach? Now that it was finally within range he both feared and hungrily anticipated it.


	8. Arrival at the Dragon's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and McCree make it to the village and talk with Zenyatta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating in so long! Life happened, and I wasn't originally going to continue this fic but i had some inspiration and now I want to work on it again.
> 
> I was hesitant about updating because my writing style has changed a bit since I last updated, and I was worried about the lack of continuity but I think I owe it to everyone who was interested in this story to keep writing it.
> 
> I'll do my best to keep going with this!

Not more than two hours into their morning hike, the pair spied the ambiguous outline of the village and the monastery beyond it. Moisture hung in the air, and the rapidly mounting cloud cover threatened to obscure their destination. “We should hurry.” Jesse spoke urgently, hoping to outrun the gathering rain storm. Genji obliged him, but not without fighting the weariness and anxiety that clung to his calves. The closer to the village they drew, the greater his hesitation.

How would Zenyatta react to his return? And beyond that, how would the village feel about two strangers in their home, bearing grim news? These questions added pounds to the weight of the dragon's weariness. Another question popped and fizzled into his brain like a New Year’s sparkler - Why am I coming back? An answer swam into his subconsciousness in the form of Zenyatta’s gleaming faceplate, those blue lights warm and inviting in spite of their cool hue.

“I have to protect him.” The thought blossomed abruptly, bursting past his lips in a soft but possessive hiss, surprising even himself. 

“Hmm? What’d ya say?” The cowboy asked, sparing a glance over his shoulder.

“Nothing.” Genji answered quickly, shaking his head. 

McCree knitted his brows skeptically but let the topic pass. “One of these days I'll get somethin’ outta you.” He joked, quirking his lop in a lopsided smile, eyes sparking briefly with mischief. “But for now… what's the plan? You said you knew someone.”

“When we arrive, I will need to find Zenyatta - he will be able to help.”

At that name, Jesse stopped in his tracks, turning once more to face Genji. “You meanin’ to tell me you're pals with Zenyatta? Tekhartha Zenyatta? Mondatta’s brother?”

The dragon was caught off guard and sputtered lamely, “Um.. yes. You know of him?”

“Know of him?!” McCree was incredulous. “In case you forgot, I work for Overwatch. The Overwatch. ‘Course I know about Mondatta and his siblings. You think I live under a rock?” 

Genji tried to re-establish his confidence with some humor. “Could have fooled me.” His tone was sly, eyes crinkling with his hidden smirk.

The look agent McCree shot him was priceless. “What you trying to s- wait.” He stopped himself, catching back up to speed, “I see you tryna change the subject.” A finger pointed at Genji accusingly.

The dragon had to chuckle at that, though he quickly recovered his guard. “Zenyatta helped me, and I would like to return the kindness.”

McCree acknowledged him with a nod, something passing over his expression as he did so. It wasn't skepticism - rather it seemed to be… understanding. Perhaps there was someone that he too owed, someone he was grateful toward. A distant roll of thunder punctuated that thought just before McCree spoke again,“Guess we better get back to hustlin’.”

Just as the first drops began to fall from the over-encumbered sky, Genji and McCree were greeted by a pair of curious yet wary eyes. A woman stood in the middle of the main road, watching them as trudged up the path. “Are you here to visit the monastery?” She asked the question in English, but her voice had a thick Indian accent.

“We are here to see Zenyatta - he is a friend of mine.” The dragon answered, adjusting his shoulder pack.

At the mention of Zenyatta, the woman seemed to visibly relax, eyes brightening. “I will take you to him.” She motioned for the pair to follow her, all traces of mistrust replaced by an amiable warmth. As they began to walk, she told them, “Something very bad has happened here recently. Two bodies were found further down the mountain. We are all a little frightened.”

Genji did his best to contain his reaction, not wanting to alarm his guide. His sober eyes watched the ground in front of him, staying quiet. Jesse, however, took the initiative to reassure the woman. “Well, don't you worry too much now, miss. That's exactly why we’re here - to look into the matter.” With that statement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet to flourish his very official-looking badge. She smiled warmly back at the strangers, nodding a ‘thank you’ to them.

Not long after, the trio came to a halt in front of a tiny but well constructed home. With her knuckles, she rapped on the door and called something in the Nepali dialect. Genji felt a cold sweat begin to well up and bead down his back, palms feeling clammy. The door opened a few moments later, revealing a set of vivid azure lights. A familiar, soothing voice greeted the woman in return.

She began to speak, likely explaining the reason for the unexpected visit. A brown hand gestured to the two men behind her, and Zenyatta’s lights seemed to grow brighter. “Genji!” The sound of his own name being emitted from the omnic’s voice box made the dragon's heart stutter for a beat. “And greetings to you as well.” Zenyatta said warmly to the cowboy, who tipped his hat in return.

The door opened wider and the omnic was waving them in. “Please, come in. It is good to have visitors.” Their guide did not cross the threshold but instead exchanged a few sentences with Zenyatta before embracing him and departing, headed back the way they had come.

When the woman had disappeared down the road, the monk followed his guests inside. Gesturing to a set of simple mats on the floor, he spoke politely, “Please, sit. Would either of you care for some tea?” It was hard to tell given his lack of moving facial features but Genji swore there was a mischievous twinkle in his headlights as Zenyatta tilted his head toward him.

“Got any coffee?” The cowboy asked hopefully.

The omnic paused a moment, trying to recall. “I believe I may. Is Columbian roast alright?” 

“Better than alright! Thank you kindly.” McCree responded in earnest. 

It seemed odd for the omnic to keep tea and coffee in his home despite having no means of actually indulging in them, but perhaps -Genji thought to himself- he simply keeps them for his guests. That sort of kind hospitality certainly wasn't uncharacteristic of Zenyatta. The aforementioned monk had retreated to a tiny kitchenette (if one could call it that - all he had were a wood burning stove and a sink) that could be observed from the main room. A kettle was filled and put on to boil, and he soon rejoined the seated men.

As he seated himself, legs crossed over each other, Zenyatta nodded at the man he had yet to meet. “I see you have brought a friend - please introduce me.”

Genji shifted in his seat and gestured to the cowboy, “This is Overwatch agent McCree. I brought him here to investigate an emergency; you all may be in danger.”

The omnic nodded his head once. “This I know. Two bodies were discovered not far from the main trail, and there were signs of a large scale fight.” Though he had no eyes to betray his thoughts, Genji could sense something strange in the slight tilt of Zenyatta's head as he looked back at the ronin. “Perhaps there is more information to be gleaned?”

The dragon shifted again, growing anxious and keeping his eyes fixated on the seam where the monk’s mouth would be instead of the gleaming lights on his forehead. To both his chagrin and relief, McCree took control of the conversation for him. “I met Genji down in Kathmandu. Two thugs were givin’ him some trouble so I got involved. He told me he had met the same guys, as well as about five others, on his way down the mountain. They were all heavily armed.”

A short silence followed, but Zenyatta finally broke it, calm and even as ever. “I see. What do you propose we do, Mr. McCree?”

“If possible, I'd like to either get someone out here or have the bodies transported so we can get an official autopsy and hopefully ID ‘em. I left the two guys we booked in Kashmandu with a partner organization of ours. I'd guess they're being taken back to be interrogated about now.”

“I will inform my brother, Mondatta, of this information and take you to speak with him at the earliest convenience.” Another pause came, and then Zenyatta spoke in a careful tone, “I would like to brief you on the state of the corpses before you see them, if I may. We had decided to keep them in the monastery until further notice. On each, there are multiple puncture wounds and deep gashes. As grateful as I am that our village sustained no harm, I find no joy in their unfortunate deaths.”

In the small space of the monk's home Genji felt suffocated, the tumult of his brain amplified by the rain beginning to patter against the shingles. Though the exchange was brief, McCree’s brown, probing gaze was enough to vacuum the air from Genji's lungs. His panic only escalated as he noticed Zenyatta gazing at him in a similar fashion. A high-pitched scream set the dragon's neck hairs on end, eyes going wild with bewilderment before he realized the abrupt, eerie wail was coming from the kitchen. 

“Excuse me.” Their host said as he got to his feet.


	9. Cowboys Don't Solve Crime Scenes But They'll Sure as Hell Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji, McCree, and Zenyatta go to the monastery to investigate the bodies that are being held there. McCree doesn't like what he finds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what even is this chapter title idk. also i can't write long chapters to save my life? i get through everything i planned to be in the chapter and im like "ok now what"

“Are you sure you wouldn't like to take the day to rest?” Zenyatta, of course, knew the urgency of the situation, but he was still concerned for his guests. He knew the hike up the mountainside was no small feat.

“That's mighty kind, but I got a job to do and the quicker it gets done, the better.” McCree answered Zenyatta professionally, but not unkindly. “If’in ya’ don't mind, I'd like to head out to the monastery ‘fore it gets dark.”

A nod of the omnic’s head shows he's taken no offense. “I understand. I will take you there as soon as you are both ready.” He turns slightly to Genji as he says this, wanting to indicate that he would not like to rush his other guest.

Genji has not so much as sipped his tea - it's just been warming his hands. It seems he has no intention of removing his mask to drink. At Zenyatta’s reply, he slowly sets his cup on the coffee table before him. “I am ready.”

“If you are certain, then we shall leave immediately.” With that said, Zenyatta rises in his graceful manner and stands to wait for the other two to do the same.

McCree exchanges a brief glance and a nod with Genji before likewise setting aside his drink and rising to his feet. A moment later he's the first out of the door, but pauses to allow Zenyatta to lead thereafter.

The trio walks along in silence for several minutes before Jesse breaks it with an inquiry posed to their omnic guide, “So - you ‘an Genji - y’all got history?”

Zenyatta seems to pause in thought while the swordsman in question appears caught off guard by the question. Genji shoots McCree a warning look. What is being warned is unclear.

“...I hope that it is not too presumptuous,” the monk turns to Genji, including him in the discussion, “to say that I consider him a friend. Our history is not a long one, but one that I cherish just as well as any other.”

Maybe it's that word, ‘cherish’, or the way it's said but something about it sends a trill through Genji. He doesn't reply with anything but a small cough. At the moment he's too busy sorting through his own confusion at the way his heart suddenly jumped in his chest.

McCree has noticed the reaction and though he doesn't comment he makes a note to tease Genji about it later. Even with a mask covering half his face, that was far too easy to read.

Zenyatta, while certainly not oblivious, has taken it for simple embarrassment, and seeks to amend. “May I-” he asks politely, “call you my friend?”

Genji freezes, unable to trust himself not to dash away like a frightened animal. There's a pause, and then he gives a quick, dismissive nod. He just wants the conversation to be terminated as quickly as possible.

Jesse, meanwhile, turns his head and pretends to take a wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his smirk. They're on serious business, but he has to admit that was cute. For now he has the decency not to heckle Genji, but he'll be getting teased later.

A soft hum indicates that the monk is pleased with this response, and he falls back into calm.  
\------------------------------------------------------

The mood goes back to somber as they approach the monastery. It's white walls are shadowed gray by the ever-darkening sky, and Genji is more on edge than ever. Just inside the entrance, Zenyatta gestures for the two men to wait a moment. He disappears down a corridor. Moments later two voices can be heard echoing back from the high ceiling, but not understood. Whatever is exchanged is spoken in hushed Nepali.

The ronin and Overwatch agent are left to wait longer than anticipated. McCree shows no sign of impatience - he calmly leans against a column and waits with crossed arms. Contrastingly, Genji is agitated. His fingers drum on his forearm, and he constantly shifts his weight.

Zenyatta returns with his brother and takes initiative to introduce the small party. With a gentle hand, he indicates the other omnic, “As I'm sure you know, this is my brother, Mondatta.” He then gestures to the cowboy, “This is agent McCree,” and finally to the last member, “and my friend, Genji.”

“I am pleased to meet you both - if only it could have been on better terms.” There is a note of regret in Mondatta’s otherwise serene voice.

Jesse's head inclines in agreement, then waits expectantly.

“The bodies have been preserved on the lower floor,” Mondatta informs the party, gesturing for them to follow. He leads them down the corridor, makes a turn, and then takes them down a flight of stairs. Below is another hallway, and they only pause at the end of it. “I will wait here.”

McCree exchanges a look with Genji before giving a small nod and stepping into the makeshift morgue. Genji hesitates behind him, a cold sweat going down his spine. “I… don't need to see them,” he says, suddenly rigid with anxiety. 

Jesse frowns, but doesn't say anything. He enters the room alone. The corpses are laid out and covered with sheets on two large tables. Goosebumps raise on Jesse’s arm, but only because of the cold - a dead body ain't nothin new to him.

It's the state of them that has him shocked when they are unveiled. Huge lacerations cover their chests and most of their limbs have been dismembered. The lines aren’t clean like he would expect from Genji’s katana or even the wakizashi. Genji didn't do this with a sword - a fact which has him furrowing his brow and frowning even deeper.

The cowboy digs in his pack until he finds a handheld device. Upon being turned on, a line of blue light emits from it. Slowly and carefully, he runs the scanner over both of the bodies. Some more button pushes, and then he's taking out his phone.

It rings three times before a young woman answers, “Jesse?”

“Hey there, doc. I'm sendin’ you some scans of the bodies up on the Shambali. Should be gettin ‘em here in a minute.”

There's a pause, and then, “...Aren't you supposed to report to Moira? She is your division’s head doctor.”

McCree inhales slowly, like he's holding back some kind of sharp retort. “...You know I don't trust her. I want you to see ‘em first.”

Angela sighs on the other end. “Alright, I've got them. I'll have a look and call you back.”

“Thanks, Angela.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------  
“So, why'd you lie to me?”

Genji’s head shoots up, eyes widening and quickly filling with confusion and panic. “W-What?”

McCree meets him with an unreadable but steady gaze. “Those two men - you said you killed ‘em.”

“I did,” Genji replies quickly, “it was self defense.”

“Cept you didn't kill ‘em.” The Blackwatch agent's eyes can be seen narrowing in the slightest degree. “Doc told me those lacerations couldn't have been made by a sword. Said the only thing that could’a done that was a tiger or a bear. Somethin’ of the sort.”

The ronin stares back wordlessly. Behind his mask his mouth is pressed into a tight line. His posture is rigid as cold sweat drips. 

“I’mma ask again: why'd you lie?” McCree’s gaze looks harsh and analytical, unwavering in intensity.

Genji feels his hands flex as if he's physically grasping for a reason, a lie. Nothing comes to him. “I… I can't tell you. I'm sorry.”

His hand flies to the handle of his sword when McCree takes a step forward.

“Ey! I'm not gonna fight ya!” The cowboy’s fingers still instinctively ghost over his holster. He then speaks in a more grave tone. “But I am watching you. I don't know what you're doing, but you best believe I'm watching - so don't be stupid.”

There’s no telltale ‘shhhk’ of the weapon leaving its sheath, but Genji’s fingers remain curled around the hilt nonetheless. His eyes search McCree suspiciously.

“Whatever. I don’t need you to tell me. Once the crew gets here to collect the bodies, they’ll run a DNA test and find out exactly what did them in.”

Grey eyes widen in alarm, then relax and settle back into cold analysis. The tests will be inconclusive - their data banks won’t have DNA samples for a dragon, and without skin follicles or fingerprints left on the bodies they won’t be able to trace it back to his human form, either. Even the saliva will lead to inconclusive results. Their scientists won’t be able to prove a damn thing. The only thing left is interrogation - and they’ll have to catch him first for that. 

His fingers relax, release the hilt, and fall back to his side. Then he remembers Zenyatta. Would he tell? No, no. Even if he did mention the dragon, they can’t link the dragon back to him. The only thing left for Genji to do is disappear without a trace - Overwatch can handle the terrorists and then be left to fumble in the dust.


	10. Blue Sky, Yellow Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji runs and wonders what color the sun is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I finally sat down and made myself write. I'm glad I did because writing this chapter felt really good!

The rough, uneven landscape of the mountain makes landing an aircraft of any caliber too dangerous to attempt - there are no stretches of flat earth long enough to serve as a runway. Overwatch’s forensics department will have to ascend much the same way Genji and McCree had previously, leaving a wide window of opportunity for the ronin to make his escape. Circumstance seems to be swinging in Genji’s favor, or so is his impression until late that same evening.

A curious blue array, bright as nine tiny suns suspended in their silver galaxy, greet Genji the moment he rounds the corner. He’s caught in their eerie cast, a criminal illuminated by floodlights. His feet, still pointed in tip-toe, freeze on wood. No time to even plead that the black hallway be kind enough to swallow all traces of himself.

“Zenyatta.” Genji chokes out a curt greeting. No breath and no footsteps, only a soft mechanical whirr. It was his own mistake for not accounting for the omnic’s unusual presence. 

The omnic’s head tilts a few degrees, changing the scope of his lights. “I apologize if I frightened you,” he says with a dip of his faceplate. “I sensed your stirring and wished to check on you.” Again he gestures in earnesty. “Is something troubling you?”

“I uh…” Genji’s brain scrambles for an excuse. One of his favorites from his playboy days jumps out at him, “I gotta use the bathroom.” Lame and unconvincing as it always was.

Zenyatta pauses for just a moment, and then gives him an understanding nod. “It is outside - I will show you the way.” 

Dammit. His lips school themselves into an innocent smile by pure habit even behind the mask. “...Thank you.” With no choice but to accept the conventions of politeness, Genji falls behind his guide and allows himself to be led. 

In the few minutes it takes to walk to an outhouse discreetly tucked a good distance from the house he’s managed to justify this situation as nothing more than a minor bump. Unfortunately Zenyatta is but a vessel for awful, beautiful surprises.

“I will wait here for you,” the monk announces after he pauses a few meters from the structure. 

“That isn’t-” Genji objects quickly, “You don’t have to. I know the way back.”

“Knowledge and execution are not one in the same.”

There is no noise of Zenyatta’s synthesizer to indicate shock or distress as Genji’s hands dart out and grip his shoulders. The only thing that prompts him to make any sound at all is the growl of his captor’s demanding, “What do you know?”

A delicate but unmistakably mechanical hand reaches up to gingerly cup itself over one of the hands clasped on him. “Many things, but I assure you there is much more I do not.”

Genji’s head shakes furiously at him, and his voice drops to a low hiss, “Tell me what you know about me. Right now.”

The reply he gets is much more serious, only given after a turn of the omnic’s head in either direction. “This is not the place. Let us go elsewhere.”

At first his grip only tightens on the monk, but soon it loosens, and he glares at Zenyatta with harsh skepticism. “Into the woods, then. Let’s go.” A set of fingers remain attached to the monk, directing him to the treeline several meters behind the outhouse. 

Hastily escorted, Zenyatta dips into the brush and dims his forehead lights. The pair proceed in relative silence, the only sound from either one the gentle brush of calves and thighs against leaves. Once Genji feels they’ve gone far enough, he stops and turns to face his captive. A squeeze on Zenyatta’s bionic arm prompts him to speak.

“You plan to leave.” It's spoken as a simple statement rather than a question.

“Tell me what you know,” Genji repeats harshly, eyes boring into the omnic’s shell with a glint that could produce sparks.

The monk pauses, lowers his head, and replies, “I know you are responsible for the fate of those two men, and I know the means by which their end was made.” Reacting to the tensing of Genji’s body and the way his gaze narrows even further, he adds, “Your secret will be kept - I have no intention of exposing you, my friend.”

But Genji doesn't relax. “You expect me to believe you? To trust you?”

A soft, almost contemplative hum reverberates through the monk before he responds. “What would you do with me then, if you cannot trust my word?”

Genji’s eyes widen with confusion. A question he wasn't prepared to answer. He lets go of Zenyatta - backs off from him. A moment later his eyes snap back into a trained glare. “I can't let you go back. You're coming with me.”

“You are kidnapping me, then?” Too calm. Matter-of-fact.

“...Yes.”

“Will my absence not attract more attention?”

Shit. Way to panic and fuck up again. It was bad enough to disappear as a suspect, but now he'd just threatened a monk. He looks up, straight at Zenyatta's forehead array, searching for an answer between the dim lights. His mouth is dry, concealed lips pulled into a tight frown.

“Give me…” His voice sounds weak and unimposing, so he tries again. “Give me your word. Promise me you will not speak of my other form.”

“You have my word.” No hesitation, only a steady gaze.

When Genji finally exhales, it’s with a quiet hiss, like steam escaping rusted pipes. It seems to almost shake him in a similar way as well, rattling his chest as if his lungs were depressurizing. There’s no fluidity to his arms and legs as he continues to put further space between himself and the monk. The stiffness of the motion, in contrast with the gentle way Zenyatta tucks his legs up to resume his usual float, blurs the distinction between who is the man and who is the machine.

“I… have to leave. I can’t risk them finding out. Anija would-” He stops himself, stifles the words as they fill his mouth like harsh bile. “I can’t stay,” he finishes.

Zenyatta’s head tilts forward ever-so-slightly, inclining toward Genji. “Then fly free, sparrow.”  
Maybe it’s imagined, but the ronin detects a quiet sadness in the words. Real or not, that somber farewell wedges past Genji’s ribcage and jams itself right into his heart in too tender of a spot for him to simply rip it out. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His footsteps heavier and clumsier than his father trained into him. Disappointing. He doesn’t want to think about the wild torrent of remorse and fear that quickly sprouted alongside Zenyatta’s goodbye.

But the roots have already long since dug deep. He’s running blind, blind. Blue suns in his eyes, orbiting across his vision. His feet cover chrome landscapes. 

Blue suns. Blue dragon. There were never nine of them - only the one. Oblong orbit of the beast chasing its tail. His silver galaxy is all just aged oak and stained tile.

White pain, white scars. Crimson rage. Flowing out of his body. Solar flares. No matter how many the sun never burns out. Anija told him the sun was actually green. Fucking liar. Doesn’t matter - God made the sky blue.

Even the blue sky crashes like the blue waves. Comes down and hides on the other side of the Earth, pushed away by the black night.

Black.

He can’t tell the length of the black, can’t measure it. Can barely remember it because as soon as his eyes open it’s not black anymore. The sun looks yellow from Earth. Gold, maybe, and it is so warm. He remembers the feeling.

Genji sighs, stirring slightly. His fingers flex, curl against his palms, then relax again. The sun abruptly sets behind his eyelids, and the land is bathed in black once more.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hand that finally wakes him isn't warm - it's cold and made of hard flesh. Genji pops his eyes open to land on brown, not yellow. It blurs into focus, and he can pick out the dark hairs on it. McCree.

"Of course you'd pick the coldest night of the week to go runnin' off," the cowboy's gruff voice thrums in his ears, "you little bastard."

Genji lunges forward, traps Jesse's wrist between fingers and thumb. The Overwatch agent jerks the limb away, ripping it out of grasp. "Yer goddamn lucky I had to take my other arm off. Liable to get frostbite if the metal gets too cold. Would'a smacked you with it for that, otherwise."

He tries to get up, but McCree shoves him back down. The force sends a pain shooting through his head and spine, and Genji hisses like a feral animal. 

A second hand appears over the crest of the cowboy's shoulder. Chrome. "Please do not harm my friend."

"Zenyatta?" Genji blurts, eyebrows still knitted in pain as his brain pounds against the confines of his skull.

"Genji," the omnic greets warmly. "How are you feeling?"

"...Hurts," the ronin slurs. Fingers, his own, come up to his face. It takes him a moment of passing his digits over the ridges of his skin that he realizes it's exposed. "Where's my mask?" He demands, trying to sit up again.

"Must've came off," McCree answers, "when you fell. No use gettin' riled up."

Bare. Naked. That's how it feels. The cool kiss of the mountain air against his face feels even colder as the hard burn of shame surges up. McCree is looking down at him, brown eyes locked on. The burning gets hotter as it turns to anger. "Don't fucking look at me like that," Genji spits.

Jesse backs up, inches out of Genji's space. "Fine. Only came in here to let you know you ain't gon'na pull another stunt like that. Medics will be here in a few hours - and after that it's one of the fellas from intelligence. Got a few questions for ya'." The drawl is as smooth and self-assured as always. "You're gon'na have a nice talk with 'em."

"Fuck you." Another graceless spit.

"Not in my job description, sorry." The way McCree tips his hat and turns on his gaudy spurs has Genji envisioning hands around his throat.


	11. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta are questioned about the unusual circumstances of the case.

“Fractured tibia, bruised ribs, dislocated shoulder - it’s a miracle your injuries are this minor,” the medical examiner tells him before flashing a light in his eyes. “Judging by the dilation of your pupils you also have a concussion, but you’re coherent so it’s probably not serious. We already ran an MRI while you were unconscious. As far as I can tell there’s no brain damage.” Genji blinks and then nods slowly.

“I’m going to tell them to hold off on your interrogation until tomorrow - just in case. Until then you’re bedridden,” his voice is even, matter-of-fact, impersonal. Genji doesn’t like it. Doesn’t trust it. “Don’t try to escape - you’re chipped until we’ve cleared you as a suspect.”

At that Genji immediately shoots straight up in bed, grabbing the doctor’s wrist. “You did WHAT to me?!”

The man doesn’t even seem to blink. Not phased at all. “We put a tracking device in your arm. If you try to remove it we’ll know immediately.”

“Take it out.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“TAKE. IT. OUT.” Genji snarls, his other hand raising and curling into a fist.

Suddenly there’s a pinching sensation in his bicep. Genji looks down. There’s a syringe stuck into it, the doctor’s thumb pressing down on the plunger. His arms go numb as if they’ve lost all strength. He tries to fight it, but his vision’s blurring and his limbs are slack. The last thing he hears is the soft thump of his own head hitting the pillow.

The ronin stirs again several hours later. His eyes flutter open. It’s dark. He panics, struggling to sit up and whipping his head around wildly.

“It is alright, Genji,” a familiar voice soothes. “It is night time now - your eyes have not yet adjusted. Give it just a moment”

Zenyatta’s nine lights swim into focus. It hurts to look at, so he tilts his head the other way. Chest heaving, he waits for his pupils to properly dilate. “The- The doctor, he… knocked me out,” Genji’s breathing is still quick and uneven. “Said there was a chip… put s-something in me, I don’t-”

“A tracking device, yes.” A hard, warm palm gently lays itself on Genji’s breast. “He did not mean you any harm - it was in his protocol. You are not in danger now.”

Scarred, flesh fingers curl around the metal ones. “You promised you would not tell-”

“And I will not,” Zenyatta reassures. “I am ignorant, and that is the truth.”

There’s a lull of silence, the air only filled with Zenyatta’s soft, mechanical whirr and Genji’s heavy breath. Then, “...What time is it?”

“It is currently 2:34 AM.”

Another quiet lapse. Genji’s breathing is slowing down. “Why are you here?”

“I did not leave.”

“They let you stay in here?”

The monk makes a small humming noise, then answers, “There may have been… some persuasion involved. But in essence, I am on security duty.”

This information has Genji snorting. “So you’re babysitting me.”

“Not so. You are an adult - I am adultsitting.”

He has to choke down a chuckle. No! You’re mad, Genji! You’re not supposed to laugh! But honestly he is grateful. Out of everyone, he’s glad it’s Zenyatta here with him now.

“...Thank you. For staying.”  
“It is my pleasure, Genji.”

Heat rises to his cheeks, and he tilts his head to look away. Again he becomes starkly aware that his face is uncovered. Fuck. Before he can stop it, the words are tumbling past his scarred lips, “Please do not look at me.”

Zenyatta must be confused, because a strange sound emits from his voice synthesizer. It cuts out, and his voice returns. “Why must I not look?”

“I just… I don’t want you to see me like this.” His voice sounds strangled, like he’s physically struggling with them.

“Do you not permit me to gaze upon your true self?” The question isn’t a challenge - it’s completely earnest. He wants Genji’s honest answer.

The ronin’s eyes flick back the blue cast of Zenyatta’s array. “I… That isn’t-”

“I will not look if you do not wish it so.”

His hands are going clammy, sweat on his palms and forehead. He can feel his heart rate picking up again. “My brother-” it comes out abrupt, unbidden. Genji snaps his mouth shut, trembling.

The monk tilts his head away as had been requested, but waits for Genji to continue. Only Genji doesn’t. They lapse into silence again.

“...Do you wish to tell me about your brother?”

“He did this,” Genji hisses in a whisper, a hand coming up to gesture to his face. “It was my punishment.”

“If this is a product of your sibling’s cruelty, why then do you find shame in yourself?”

Genji’s shaking his head fervently. “You don’t understand, you CAN’T understand.”

Quietly, Zenyatta answers, “I would like to try. If you would allow it.” A second hand moves to place itself over Genji’s, holding it to the man’s chest.

Genji swallows, mouth gone dry. He’s shaking under Zenyatta’s touch, whirling with shame and rage. “I can’t… I can’t talk about this here.”

“I will not force you, then. And I am sorry to have upset you.”

Another shake of his head. “It isn’t your fault. This anger - it’s my burden.”

Long seconds turn into long minutes. Genji’s heart rate gets back under control, his hand still clasped between Zenyatta’s while the omnic hovers at his bedside. 

“...Genji.”

“Yes?”

“I do not mean to assume my opinion is of great value, but… I would like to tell you that you are very handsome.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You said Genji’s y’er friend - how’d you meet?” Of course they’d make Jesse grill the monk instead of letting him in on the real interrogation. Typical lacky-boy shit. Think they’d’ve given him a little respect by now.

“He was visiting the monastery, we met by chance in one of the main chambers.” Zenyatta’s careful not to mention the fact that it was the middle of the night and that he was in there alone.

“He tell you why he was there?”

“No, and I did not ask.” Entirely the truth. 

“Why not?”

“It did not seem pertinent at the time.”

“Find that hard to believe.”

“Many travellers come to us, all bringing stories they tell willingly - I did not wish to ask for his tale until he was ready to give it.”

McCree snorts, a little annoyed. “O’ course not. So y’er tellin’ me you know nothing about this guy?”

“I know neither his origin, nor his agenda.”

“But he’s your pal?”

“He is my friend, yes.”

God dammit. “Is there anything you can tell us that might be helpful in this investigation.”

“...Genji is a good person.”

“Debatable, but alright. Thanks for your time.” Not really - did nothing but waste it. “By the way, everyone involved in this little situation is under surveillance. That includes you, so don’t go anywhere.”

“...I understand.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Genji nearly flinches as her mug clinks on the table. She’s just set it down heavily after a long drink. The ronin’s seated across from her, propped up in his wheelchair and nervously rubbing the upholstery on it.

“Agent McCree reported that you told him you killed those two men in self-defense. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“But our autopsy report indicates that the lacerations found on the bodies are only plausible as claw and teeth marks. Evidence supports that their deaths were caused by a large animal, and there are no signs of injury caused by a man-made weapon. Neither the blade of your katana nor your wakizashi could have done that.” Her voice is somehow worse than the doctor’s had been. Cold, straight-forward. Her gaze steely, intimidating.

There was no question asked, so Genji doesn’t say anything. He looks up at meets her harsh eyes.

“Why did you lie to agent McCree about the nature of their deaths?” She demands.

Silence.

“Why did you lie, Genji?” The woman leans forward, insistent. 

No answer.

“The DNA we found at the crime scene came up inconclusive, but even so we compared it to yours. We weren’t able to link it to yours in any way,” here she pauses, “but we sent the results to Dr. Ziegler anyway. Do you want to know what she found?”

Genji freezes, fingers gripping the arms of his chair. 

“After an examination of your karyotype, she discovered an extra chromosome in the nuclei of your cells. This chromosome was present in all of tissue samples we took from you.”

He’s suffocating, losing his breath. The air is dry, desaturated. No, no. They COULDN’T have! They shouldn’t be able to-

“Doctor Ziegler is a remarkable woman, wouldn’t you say?”

“What… What are you going to do to me?” The question comes out in a choked warble, like he’s a bird seconds from having its neck wrung.

“I’m not going to do anything. My orders are to have you brought to HQ for further testing. Once you’re delivered the matter is out of my hands.”


	12. Little Sparrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwatch goes on a manhunt after a strange explosion.

The earthquake-like rumble, the following explosion of brick and wood supports, and the blood curdling scream that rings from the source run together in Jesse’s mind, creating a bewildering cacophony of pure NOISE. He dives for the floor, as does everyone else in the building. Several tense seconds pass before he uncertainly lifts his head and begins to look around. His surveyance is interrupted by the captain skittering into the hall, wild-eyed and hyperventilating. 

Deep in a state of hysterics, she can only sputter, desperately trying to string together something coherent. “D-DRAGON! HE…. HE JUST… TURNED DRAGON - I DON’T. IT JUST-”

Jesse’s at her side, taking hold of her shoulder. “What happened?! You get hurt?”

“NO! No…,” She struggles for a couple more seconds. “He… he transformed! Rammed right through the wall. He… He’s gone.”

It’s now that McCree will finally look through the doorway she’d just scrambled through. Past it, in the far wall, there’s massive hole in the wall, debris still crumbling around its edges. Eyes wide, he stares at it in pure disbelief.

The captain seems to somewhat recover herself as she barks, “Evacuate everyone immediately! The structure could be compromised!” She pulls out of the younger agent’s grasp. “McCree, do a head count once everyone’s evacuated - make sure all our staff is accounted for.”

“What about Genji?!”

“Still has the chip in his arm. Soon as the building is evacuated we’ll go get him.”  
“...Yes ma’am.”

The first room he’s bursting into is the one he’d left Zenyatta waiting in. He wastes no formalities on the omnic, simply grabbing his arm roughly and pulling him through the door. “Looks like your boyfriend ditched ya’.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Captain Santiago,” a young male voice addresses.

“What’s his location?” She demands without preamble.

“That’s… the thing,” he sounds nervous, eyes darting away from his captain the moment he sees hers narrowing. “We found the tracker in a snowbank, down the mountain a mile east from here. He ripped it out.”

“Of course he did,” Santiago hisses under her breath. “Send out two scouting crews, one for the ground and one for the air. Start where you found the tracker and spread out. I want reports every fifteen minutes.”

The man ducks his head, then salutes before sullenly trudging back to deliver her orders.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“All I’m askin’ ya is where he went - ain’t that hard of a question,” McCree drawls slow but with an edge.

“My first answer was sincere. I do not know where he is or where he intends to go,” Zenyatta calmly replies.

“You know I think you’re full of shit, right?”

“I am aware.”

The cowboy snorts, unamused. “What’s he got in it for you? Or did he threaten ya’? You know you’re under protection with us. He can’t do anything to you.”

“I’ve received neither a threat nor a bribe.”

Jesse twitches his mouth and scowls at the omnic for several moments before his expression changes. “How long you been knowin’?”

“... I’m afraid I don’t understand your question,” the monk replies quietly.  
“I mean, how long s’it been that you knew about Genji’s little… condition.”

“Ah, that… It was quite recently that I realized. A week.”

McCree perks up, interested now that he’s finally gotten something out of the omnic. “You saw him kill those two men.” It’s spoken more like a statement than a question.

Zenyatta shakes his head. “No. I was not there to witness the fight, and I had no knowledge of those men prior to their bodies being discovered.”

“But you know he killed them.”

“To my knowledge that was self-defense.”

“Now you can’t say that f’er sure - after all, you weren’t there,” the agent presses.

“I do not understand.”

McCree leans in a bit closer. “We went and print-matched those weapons y’all found, and yeah they matched the prints on the two men, but that’s all we got. No leads, no motives, nothin’. As of right now we haven’t even ID’ed ‘em. We can’t prove they were up to anything. Not officially, anyway.”

Zenyatta stares at him, silent and unmoving.

“Now I’m not here to speak on what they were or weren’t tryna do with all that gunpowder. Ain’t my concern at the moment. But what I’m sayin’ is right now this case is classified a double-homicide.” He pauses for a second, eyeing the omnic seriously. “Be mighty wise of you to fess up.”

Zenyatta is quiet, then he bows his head. “I have already told you all I know.”

There’s the impatient bang of a metal fist on the table, and a low hiss through McCree’s teeth. He shoves out of his chair and stalks away toward the door. Before he exits, he says without turning, “You best head on home, and don’t think about goin’ nowhere else.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Defenseless. Overwatch had confiscated everything - Ryū Ichimonji, his wakizashi, even his shuriken. The only blade he holds now is the scalpel he’d managed to swipe from his nurse’s supplies. It’s a pathetic little thing, but it had been enough to cut the tracking device out of his skin. Now, without a proper cover, it’s liable to just be a hazard to himself. Best to just discard it. Winding back his arm, he chucks it into a ravine. Goodbye, Chibi Monji.   
He’s not sure why he ran. Probably because it’s the one thing he’s actually good at. But now Genji finds himself with nothing. Truly nothing. His blades, his one and only friend - left them behind. Why the fuck did he do that? To prevent himself from becoming the alibi his family had always accused him of being. An ugly songbird in a nest of vultures. 

Hanzo knew. Knew the whole fucking time. Little Sparrow would never sing, even at the cost of his own sanity. Cast out by his own brother, reminded how grateful he should be given the other alternative, and too scared to make a peep. 

Genji hops to the ground, let’s his talons root into the hard earth. It’s not safe down here for small prey like himself. The trees are swaying. Morphing. Screaming, “FLY, LITTLE SPARROW!” He feels sick.

The earth. Just another privilege stripped from him. His only sanctuary is the sky. Genji shakes his head, closes his eyes. No, that’s wrong. He remembers something about the sky being blue. Nothing but a swath of glittering scales always hanging over him. He opens his mouth and sucks in a cold breath.

His feet start trudging, pushing through the snow. It’s not easy being on the ground. He grits his teeth and bares it, sloughing his own path. 

Either they’ll find him out here in time, or he’ll freeze to death in the snow. The best part is it’s got nothing to do with him anymore. He’s finally made a decision, and it’s to stop running from fate. It’s free to catch up to him however it wants to. 

Cold and still injured, he doesn’t make it far. His legs give out, and he lets his body melt into the frost. A few minutes later, and it’s almost pleasant - he’s gone totally numb to the point that it feels warm. Vaguely, he remembers something similar to this: a golden light, swathed around him. 

‘“Hah…,” he breathes with the last bit of consciousness, “Sorry, Zen.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Light in his eyes. Not gold. White. Hard and unpleasant. He hisses and jerks his head away from it, screwing up his face.

“Are you awake? Can you hear me?” A distance voice.

“Hnnnn,” is all he can manage at first.

“Genji?” The ronin pops his eyes open and tries to sit up. He can’t.

“Zenyatta??” He sounds panicked. All he can see is white. No, a woman’s face blurs into focus, peering down at him. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know who zat is,” she says with a frown.

“S’the omnic we got down at HQ. Tried questioning him again, but he just gave the same story.” McCree.

That strikes more panic into him, causing him to struggle harder against his restraints. His teeth gnash together as an animalistic snarl escapes his throat. 

“Do you want me to seda-” Male voice. Not McCree.-

“No.” The woman interrupts sharply. Then she continues, speaking to Genji. “Your friend is fine. No need to fuss.” It takes him a few seconds to register her hands holding his face. His eyes stay narrowed, but he stops thrashing.

“Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” He wiggles them. “Good. Now your toes.” Again he does as instructed. Then he’s squirming all over. “I told you-”

“Why does it itch so bad?!” His whole body, now that he’s awake, feels like it’s burning.

“Zat’s the frostbite, dear. You were exposed for a very long time. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“God! Can’t you make it stop?!”

She shakes her head, then swipes at a piece of blonde hair that’s fallen out of her messy bun. “The itch is good. It means the blood is circulating.”

He stops twitching as McCree shuffles into his line of sight. Eyebrows furrowed, he glares daggers at the cowboy. 

For a second, McCree almost seems to hesitate. “Look… I think we got off on the wrong foot. I weren’t tryna do you any harm, Genji. I just need to know what’s goin’ on.”

Genji meets him with silence and a tight scowl.

Jesse opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. Dipping his head and moving, he comments to the doctor, “Sposed to tell you to call Reyes when Genji here’s in stable condition. Wants to talk to you, ‘n then him.”

From what Genji can tell, she doesn’t like that. “I’m still running blood tests. He will have to wait.”

“Doc, you know that ain’t the boss wants to hear.”

“He’s your boss, not mine. Genji is my patient, and I will decide when he is fit to speak to Commander Reyes, and anyone else for that matter.” She has such an impressive authority for such a young woman. Focusing on her, Genji realizes that she seems to be around his age. Twenty-five, give or take?

“Alright, alright. I got’cha,” the cowboy relents. Genji hears his boots clunk away, and then there’s a hiss of what he can only assume is an automatic door sliding open and shut again.

The doctor seems to wait to make sure he’s gone before she speaks again. “I need to test the full range of your mobility to be certain that there is no undetected nerve damage. I will release you from your restraints, but I also must inform you that there is a trained sniper who can and will tranquilize you on first sign of an escape attempt.”

Uhhh. Shit. Okay. “...Okay,” he mumbles uncertainly. God, he’s just so fucking confused right now.

She begins undoing the clasps around his chest first. “My name is Doctor Ziegler,” she speaks without much inflection, as if she’s reciting a dull speech, “I am your medical practitioner. I will be in charge of any and all medical tests and procedures you undergo while you are here.”

“Procedures?” He asks, worried.

“Related to your recovery. You may need some physical therapy after the injuries you sustained while in Nepal,” she clarifies. The moment she unclasps his arms, he sits up. Too quickly. It hurts. A pained hiss whistles through his teeth. “I would advise you to move with caution.”

“No kidding,” he huffs.

“Stop that.” Dr. Ziegler grabs his wrists.

A bewildered look crosses his face. “What?”

“Scratching. It will cause epidermic damage.”

“Don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve already got severe epidermic damage,” he replies, gesturing to the many scars covering his body. His eyes drift away from her, moving around the room. After a moment, they’re attracted to a woman seated behind a glass wall. In her hands is a rifle, trained right at him. Her eyes lock onto his. “Is that… uh… the sniper?”

“Captain Amari, yes.”

Captain Amari looks intense. If he were planning to do anything, he’s not now. Doctor Ziegler undoes the restraints around his legs. It’s now that he also notices a man standing on the opposite side of the room as the sniper. He appears to be looking at some papers, but glances up when he notices Genji looking. Genji averts his gaze. Must be the guy who wanted to sedate him.

“Slowly try to get up,” his doctor instructs him. He does as he’s told, using the bars of his cot for support. “Very good. Now walk.” Genji limps a couple of steps. “Hmmm…” Ziegler hums quietly. “Extend your right leg.” 

His leg is extended, but he suddenly blurts out, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Prescribe you some muscle relaxers and put you back in your cot,” the doctor replies with a frown.

“No, no, I mean - you know about.... You’re Doctor Ziegler. The woman, she… she said you looked at my DNA.”

“Ahhh, zat. I’m running some more blood tests right now.” She frowns again, and seems to falter a bit. “Your condition is… very unusual. I am not sure what to make of it. We will do more tests when you are better.”

“That can’t be all. McCree said someone wanted to talk to me… Commander Reyes?” 

Her brow furrows, and she looks almost upset. “I… must confess: I do not know what he intends to do. Once I am finished with your tests and rehabilitation… I can’t say what will happen. I’m sorry.”

Genji goes quiet for a moment, then asks, “...What about Zenyatta? Is he okay? Can I see him?”

“Your friend will be fine,” she reassures. “I… cannot make a guarantee, but I may be able to request visitation if it is in your medical interest. Log it as a psychological need.”

“Please. I… have to see him.”


End file.
